


catch ourselves align

by c_libretto



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Gen, crackfic, kitten!michael - Freeform, puppy!calum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:46:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1696973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_libretto/pseuds/c_libretto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Calum walks (scampers) through the front door and into Michael’s life, he is a furry bundle of energy, dashing around his new home and sniffing like there’s no tomorrow, yapping excitedly at almost every inanimate object he encounters. </p>
<p>Michael doesn’t quite know what to make of it. </p>
<p>(basically: kitten!Michael and puppy!Calum)</p>
            </blockquote>





	catch ourselves align

**Author's Note:**

> greatly inspired by michael's recent tweet: (https://twitter.com/Michael5SOS/status/470557423292649473). this is supposed to be something like a crackfic, so don't take it seriously.

The first time Calum walks (scampers) through the front door and into Michael’s life, he is a furry bundle of energy, dashing around his new home and sniffing like there’s no tomorrow, yapping excitedly at almost every inanimate object he encounters.

Michael doesn’t quite know what to make of it.

The new puppy’s barks had woken him up from a deep sleep he was having in his basket near the windowsill, and it wasn’t a secret that Michael had very low tolerance for noises that would interrupt his daily routine of a nice nap under the basking warm sun streaming in through the shades. Stretching his tired limbs out, Michael trots down from the windowsill to examine him – this _creature_ – properly; he’d never seen a dog before, so he approaches his new housemate with a sense of cautiousness.

Calum, he then learns, has no regard for polite greetings at all.

The black bundle of fur circles Michael with great enthusiasm, pushing his little black nose in Michael’s proximity, too close for comfort. Michael hisses in response, pawing at his nose with contempt and backs away. Calum just cocks his head to the side in what appears to be a confused look.

When Michael is presented with his usual bowl of milk a little later, he’s relieved to see Calum not paying the slightest bit of attention to it at all, instead preoccupied with a ball that was meant to be Michael’s, but one that he’s never bothered to play with even until now. Michael goes back to his basket as soon as he finishes up the milk, licking at his paws and cleaning up before surrendering himself to another good slumber, completely disregarding the new puppy’s frantic movements around the room.

He supposes that Calum’s not going to be a real bother. As long as they each mind their own business, Michael doesn’t see any reason why he’d hold any sort of resentment towards him – just a whole of indifference that would prompt him to ignore Calum, and vice versa.

A little after midnight, the lights are out and the place is dark and through his narrow subconscious, Michael can hear Calum still wide awake, his feet pitter-pattering across the floor as if he’s never going to stop. Michael blinks his eyes open, the two pinpoints of light from his eyes penetrating the heavy darkness, and he sees Calum going around in circles, doing – _what is it that he’s doing_? Michael wonders, straightening up to see better.

What he sees deeply amuses him – Calum’s chasing his own backside, pouncing on the little nub he has of a tail and chewing on it like it’s a plaything. He notices Michael watching, and looks up with a friendly, inviting look in his eyes, as if asking, _want to join_?

Michael fixes him with a stare that says, _no, that’s dumb_ , and curls back up with his tail by his side almost smugly.

Calum doesn’t seem to mind. He goes back to his silly game, until much later when Michael hears the motions stop, and witnesses him slumped by the foot of the coffee table, drained out of his cannonball energy, fast asleep.

 

*

 

The next few days go on without many changes – Michael’s still showered with the same amount of undivided attention despite the fact that Calum is around, and his lazy days continue on with the usual splendour: eat, poop, sleep, and repeat. He occasionally tinkers with a ball of yarn when things get a little too boring, but Calum never seems to tire of running around, madly barking at this and that, and the sounds, though annoying at first, become familiar to Michael’s pointed ears.

What does irritate the poor kitten, though, is when Calum manages to sidle up next to him in his small basket, squeezing his larger frame to fit in and cuddle up next to Michael. Michael usually greets him with a light smack to his nose (but still careful enough not to scratch him), ushering him to get away from his personal space, but Calum refuses to budge. He buries his head in the soft blankets lined in the basket and stubbornly stiffens up so Michael wouldn’t be able to push him away.

It’s comforting on chilly, stormy days though – Calum’s warm body pressed up against Michael’s own smaller one, so maybe he doesn’t mind it that much, after all.

 

*

 

Michael’s no alley cat – he’d been living in an apartment in his entire lifespan of five months, so when he finds himself lost outside after going out the front door, he’s scared and mostly hungry, hoping to be found soon before he gets into real danger. Unfortunately for him, he encounters a big bully of an adult cat, barely escaping with his tail between his legs, the hairs on his back raised in distress and a wound on his head. It’s a gash, nothing too deep, but it hurts and he mewls in pain as he wanders the corridors helplessly.

Luckily, he is found before anything worse could happen to him and he’s brought to the vet soon enough to clear up his wound and then, all the way home where he is expected to rest for full recovery. He walks through the front door, vowing to never leave the house again and he sees Calum scurrying up to him, peering up at the gash on his head with worry. He emits a whine, asking, _are you okay_? and Michael doesn't refrain from giving him a little grateful lick right on his forehead.

Michael doesn’t mind Calum’s prodding this time, in fact, he takes relief in it.

When he ends up sleeping in his familiar basket again, he’s got his head buried in Calum’s thick mass of dark fur, purring contentedly, just happy to be home again.


End file.
